I decided on the LOTR references of the Old Forest and the Barrow-Downs for Phnom Penh and the surrounding area as I felt the spell-like trance that was put on the population by the Khmer Rouge was appropriate. This allowed Pol Pot to carry out his murderous agenda, like Old Man Willow and the Barrow-wights. Thankfully, the UN stepped in, like Tom Bombadil, and released the population from the spell.
Like every new country the most tense journey is the one into the country, similar to when your comfy slippers are thrown away and you have to break in a new pair. All the pillars from the previous country disappear: money, language, food, traffic rules, what beer you like the best and also, the most nerve wracking, the visa process and immigration.
I know Becs and I really felt for this Sri Lankian chap who had to show $1,000 USD to the immigration officials to prove he had enough money to fund himself when in Cambodia. Personally it seemed a corruption scam to illicit money from tourists from certain counties. Unfortunately he didn't have the money to hand and we were unable, and unwilling if I am honest, to provide. I know it might sound unsympathetic but I did not want to be dragged into a visa dispute and was also concerned that the border officials might take a portion of the money, which he would then be unable to repay. Still we didn't have the money on us so that took the decision out of our hands.
So, after a little delay he unfortunately had to leave the coach and sort something out at the crossing. I did keep an eye out for him in PP but didn't see him. Hopefully he was able to sort it all out and jumped on the next bus to the capital. We got a touch lucky with night bus as it could have turned out completely different. Thankfully there were only seven people booked on the bus for the night portion of the journey, so we were able to all spread out. This meant that rather than Becs and I being wedged into two parallel berths I had two berths to my own. This turned a potentially crippling trip into one of near palatial luxury; in the bus world.
The bus journey was reasonably uneventful apart from striking up a conversation with our first Cambodian, a young chap who got on the bus soon after crossing the border into the country. He was heading to PP for the day, as he was participating in a speech competition for his college and needed to attend a pre-selection English test. He was very nervous as seemed comforted by me saying that he had the best English of anyone that I had met in South East Asia so far. A little white lie it might have been but his grasp was excellent and he bounded off the bus when he reached his drop-off place.
We spent the first hour or so walking from the bus station to our hostel, which was slightly uncomfortable, as it was hotter and more humid than most of Vietnam. We were also pestered quite a bit by Tuk Tuk drivers who were mystified that we would walk 6km rather than pay the $7 USD for the ride. All mounts up.
Like on the Ha Long Bay tour, I think I am probably going to go down in Cambodiam folk-law as the tightest traveller of all time. A bit like Samwise the Brave, I expect to revisit South East Asia and hear songs in my honour with verses about me negotiating Tuk tuks and meals down by 3-5 USD; renting the cheaper bikes rather than mountain bikes; and also getting more bang for our buck. I have to admit even I was chuffed when I managed to negotiate the price of the push bikes in Siem Reap down from $20 USD to $12 USD and got them to throw in a free map and some noodle soup. I know I might seem a little cheap but personally I don't care. Not only is it great fun but more importantly it is keeping us within our daily budget so I feel fully justified.
Becs has mentioned though that it's funny that I don't negotiate on the beer. Well some things are too sacred...
The Killing Fields and Prison were truly horrific and heart wrenching. I was surprised that, apart from the killing tree, which they used to hit babies and toddlers against, that I wasn't more affected on the day. I don't know whether it was my lack of knowledge about the genocide by The Khmer Rouge, or that I had visited Auschwitz as a young adult, but my impression on the day was of how respectful the Cambodian authorities had been to the victims, how informative both museums were and, surprisingly, how tranquil the Killing Fields are.
If you didn't know what you were visiting you could easily be mistakenly think that you have visited was an old Chinese Cemetery, which was what Choeung Ek used to be, prior to being converted by Pol Pot for his barbaric and disgusting torture and execution of fellow citizens. Every now again there were little, subtle reminders of the past with hundreds skulls and skeletons presented in the memorial pagoda or the bones and rags peeking through the ground as they do after rain. The Killing Fields have collectors, staff that pick up these pieces so they can finally rest in peace.
Whilst it was tranquil now, I can't begin to imagine how chilling the place was when it was an operational human slaughter-yard. They played continuous revolutionary songs day and night. Partially to trick locals that it was a Khmer Rouge training facility but also at night to cover up the cries of the dying.
'Enemies of the state' were transported at nighttime from the Prison, blindfolded. Most thought they were being released so we unaware of their fate. Some were executed immediately whilst, towards the end when there were too many prisoners to 'process' in one day, the remaining few had a stay of execution and were incarcerated to morning. I shiver thinking about them spending thee last night of their lives in complete fear as they could probably hear the cries of their fellow citizens and knew the gravity of their situation.
One phrase that was written everywhere and was included on the audio many times was, "to kill grass you have to remove the roots". This meant that they didn't just kill a dad, mum, son or daughter, but their children, parents and extended family. I think Pol Pot's sick thought process is best summed up by his twisted mantra that, "it was better that an innocent person died in error than an enemy of the state lived in error."
Not only was it barbaric and sick, but I cannot begin to understand the impact on the country as every teacher, professor, professional and eminent thinker was terminated, with a large slice of the farmers and industrial leaders suffering the same fate. People were chosen if they were educated; were monks or nuns; left handed; wore glasses; were bald; etc. the random 'lottery' goes to demonstrate how paranoid Pol Pot and his contemporaries were. Most of them were teachers or professors, so they obviously feared a younger version of themselves such that they not only killed all the teachers but also banned state education and symbolically converted all the schools into prisons.
It is cruel luck that the socio-economic and political issues at play in Cambodia in the early seventies coincided with some bright young individuals who had a mixture of charisma and, I presume, mental illness. Affected by the Vietnam War it seems like Cambodia was a melting pot similar to Germany post-World War One. These conditions created a vacuum around the country and facilitated the indoctrination of angry and starving people.
After the Killing Fields we headed back to PP and went round Toul Sleng Museum, which was the former Toul Svay Prey high school that the Khmer Rouge set up a prison on the site to detain and gruesomely torture and murder people accused of opposing the regime. Toul Sleng, which roughly translates as 'poisonous hill', was also referred to as S21 ('Security Office 21'). The prison showed mugshots of many of the ordinary Cambodians who were identified by the KR as opponents to their regime, taken when they arrived, the conditions of incarceration and various torture techniques carried out on a continuous basis.
Since the visits the impact has grown such that it affected me considerably once it begun to sink in. This especially is because we met an American restauranteur, who is Cambodian by birth but has just recently felt able to return to live. He escaped as a young boy with his Father, Mother and elder Sister to the U.S. via a border crossing into Thailand over one of the mountain passes on foot, with only 5 USD to their name. His family was selected as his Dad was left handed and had a Science Degree. As I listened it numbed me to the core that he was describing my family and that his family was the lucky ones. The vast majority weren't as lucky and ended up following the route from Toul Sleng to Choeung Ek.
At the Prison we walked into Hayley, a Geordie who we met on the tour of the Cu Chi tunnels. After a tough day we all headed to the nearest place that served beer and also had Snake-on-a-stick and fried Frog. We were joined later by her travelling companion Luke and went to a restaurant that reminded me of an old soviet meeting hall, were we eat some local deliciouses that were cooked at our table on a hot plate; all for £8 for the four.
The bus from PP to Siem Reap, which was eventful, as you will find out in the next post, which should be posted in the next two days.
LeeHi (Cambodian for goodbye)
No comments:
Post a Comment